Within a few hours, Nero had reversed his stance, and was more than ready to trade his companions away for… well, for just about anything, within reason. A couple of ordinary rocks. A set of crying two-year-olds. A pair of rabid badgers, perhaps. Anything would have been less harrowing than being trapped in the house with both Lady and Vergil.

Despite the peaceful interlude in the afternoon, the strange antagonism that had hovered between them during lunch returned and intensified by dinner time. Nero couldn't pinpoint the exact cause; perhaps the small house was too confining, or perhaps there was just a limit to how long former enemies could remain civil to one another, but the tension ratcheted up gradually throughout the evening. Lady's snark grew sharper, and Vergil's tolerance for her barbs waned until Nero feared there would be bloodshed over the dinner table. He caught himself eying their flatware and wondering how quickly he could confiscate it with his spectral arm, when he'd recalled that Vergil could summon swords from thin air and Lady used her fists and feet as often as her guns.

It was a relief when Lady stormed off to her room after the meal, and Nero saw his chance to retreat safely upstairs. He pointed Vergil toward the laundry room for clean linens, if he wanted them, and left him to fend for himself. Kyrie probably wouldn't have approved of his abandoning a guest without a readied bed, but there were plenty of empty bunks and a perfectly serviceable sofa available, and Vergil was a grown man who could damn well figure out how to put on his own pillowcase.

The next morning, Nero descended to the kitchen with some trepidation, but Lady avoided a breakfast rematch by sneaking some toast and coffee back to her room before Vergil made his appearance. Lunch, however, brought a near-disastrous rekindling of hostilities.

"It's so quiet around here without the kids," Lady observed as she pulled her chair closer to Nero's end of the table. "I almost don't recognize this kitchen without eight people crammed into it."

"Well, enjoy the peace while it lasts." Nero passed out their plates and tried not to think about how his words might just as easily apply to the pair in the room with him. "The whole pack'll be back tonight, and I'm sure they'll bring even more than the usual amount of drama home with them. I predict assorted bruises, several skinned knees, and at least one case of poison ivy."

"You think?"

"It's almost guaranteed, turning six kids loose in the woods. It doesn't matter how clearly the trails are marked or how close you watch them. They love getting into stuff."

"Five kids," Lady corrected. "At least, only five who can come back scraped up. I'm sure Dante has been getting into loads of trouble, too, but at least any damage he's taken will have healed by the time he gets home." She stopped and shook her head. "Tony. I mean Tony. I've got to get back in the habit so I don't slip up in front of the kids."

"Yeah, it always takes me a minute to remember what name he's going by now, too." Nero paused to fork a few bites of food into his mouth. "Actually, I wonder how long he'll stay Tony. Do you know when he switched back to using his real name?"

Lady shrugged. "No idea. He's always been Dante since I've known him."

"He was seventeen," Vergil said.

The sound of his voice startled Nero; Vergil had settled quietly at the far end of the table, and hadn't spoken to either of them since entering the kitchen. "Oh?"

Lady's eyes narrowed. "And just how do you know that?"

Vergil returned the look. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you hadn't met him then."

Vergil gave a mocking huff. "Considering we were together from before birth, I find that statement rather unsupportable."

"You know what I mean," she snapped. "Dante said he didn't even know you were still alive until the year before Temen-ni-gru."

"And you believe Dante tells you everything, do you?"

Lady bristled. "I believe what he tells me a hell of a lot more than I believe anything you say."

Vergil leaned back in his chair. "At the risk of upsetting your precious notion that you are Dante's sole confidant and privy to his every secret, there is a great deal about his life that he hasn't shared with you. Clearly, our first reunion falls into that category." He cocked an eyebrow. "And I rather suspect our second, as well. It doesn't reflect well on him, so naturally, he wouldn't wish to recount it, even to someone as sycophantic as you."

"Oh, if we're going to talk about selective memory and unflattering events, I can bring up something a lot more recent," Lady snarled, half-rising from her seat.

Thus far, Nero had attempted to stay out of their arguments, but in that instant he realized he could feel the radiation of Vergil's energy the way he'd felt Berial's, or Goliath's, or any of the other powerful demons he'd fought. It was a sensation he'd experienced only once before in Vergil's presence—and that had been atop the Qliphoth, mere seconds before Vergil had unleashed a staggering amount of power and transformed into his winged devil form.

As much as he preferred to let Lady and Vergil sort out their own differences, he wasn't keen on remodeling his house, and he had a feeling things were about to get really messy if he didn't intervene. Nero jumped to his feet and extended a hand toward each adversary, feeling like a referee in a boxing match. "Okay, time out. You two wanna kill each other, you take it outside. You're sure as hell not doing this in my kitchen."

The momentary distraction succeeded in suspending the escalation of hostilities, but Lady shoved her chair back anyway. "I think I will go outside, actually. The company's more agreeable there." With a final deadly glare at Vergil, she stalked out of the kitchen. The front door slammed a few seconds later.

A moment later, Vergil stood and wordlessly left the room. Nero listened for the front door in case he was going after Lady, but all he heard was the sagging of the armchair springs in the front room. He released the breath he'd been holding and looked at the table and the plates of half-eaten food. "I guess I'm on dish duty, then," he muttered.

He was just setting the first plate in the dish drainer when the telephone rang. "I called as soon as we got within range," Kyrie told him, raising her voice over the road noise and children's chatter in the background. "I wanted to let you know we were on our way back. The weather turned suddenly, so we'll be home a bit earlier than planned."

"Good to know." At least he wouldn't be trapped alone in the house with Lady and Vergil. Kyrie was a better peacemaker, anyway. "What's your ETA?"

He heard Kyrie cover the receiver to speak to Nico. "Twenty minutes," she said a moment later. "Unless you need us to stop anywhere? It could be longer, if you, ah, need… anything from the store."

"No, there's no need to stall. You can head straight home."

"Oh, good." He could hear the relief in her voice. "I was afraid we'd be interrupting if we came back this early. How did everything go?"

"Well… About as well as we could have hoped for, I guess." Minus some excessive trauma, and some serious attitude we could all do without, he added silently. He didn't want to get into that over the phone, though. "Vergil's back to normal."

"Thank goodness," she sighed. "It sounds like you'll have some things to explain to the children when we get home."

"Yeah. When you get here, let's try to corral them outside, okay? It'll be easier to tell them we have a new house guest before they just run into the house and see a stranger."

"I'll do my best. Wait for us in the garage, if you can."

"Will do. See you soon."

Lady hadn't returned, but Nero knew he should warn Vergil of the impending arrival. Of course, that meant speaking to Vergil, which was not high on Nero's list of preferred activities at the moment. He braced himself before moving to the living room. "Hey," he said from the doorway. Vergil's eyes flicked up from the book in his lap, and Nero forced out, "Kyrie and the kids will be here in twenty minutes."

Vergil gave a minute nod and returned to his book, and Nero retreated to the kitchen to release the frustrated growl he'd been holding in. It seemed impossible that less than twenty-four hours ago he'd actually been enjoying his father's company, even feeling grateful to him for telling him about his mother—and now he was back to wanting to put his fist through something every time they made eye contact. Through Vergil's incisors, preferably.

Nero had time to finish the dishes and pace thirty-seven anxious circuits of the garage before the monstrous vehicle roared up in front of the house. The van slowed long enough to allow Kyrie to alight, then rattled off again.

Kyrie hurried inside and submitted to Nero's welcoming kiss before speaking. "We only have a few minutes. Nico's going for fuel, and I told the children they could each pick out a candy from the jar at the station if they went with her."

"Quick thinking. Did everything go okay? Everyone have a good time?"

"Oh, the children had a lovely time. It may have been a mistake to introduce them to the concept of toasted marshmallows, though," she laughed. "I think they're going to be requesting that for dessert for the next few weeks.'

"Well, there are worse vices. At least marshmallows are cheap. I'm glad they had fun, though. No demon trouble?"

"None that I'm aware of. Trish ventured out on her own a couple of times, but if she hunted anything, she didn't report it to me. She may have just been looking for a few minutes' peace and quiet."

"That's understandable. How did the kids behave?"

"As good as gold—well, except for Tony. I'm sure he was just anxious about his brother, but it made him a bit… difficult to manage. He was so worked up, I don't know if he slept at all the whole weekend, poor lamb. I finally let him sit up on the van roof with Trish all night. That was the only thing that calmed him down."

Nero's eyebrows shot up. "Trish agreed to this?"

"She's the one who suggested it." Kyrie shrugged. "Maybe he's old enough now that he reminds her of Dante, so she doesn't mind being around him. Oh! Speaking of people growing up…" Kyrie's eyes swung past Nero and fixed on the steps that led up into the house. "Is there anything I should know before I meet your father?"

"Only that he's a complete asshole." Kyrie's eyes widened, but before she could chide him for the statement, Nero shook his head. "I know, but it's true. I'm pretty sure he had better social skills as a three-year-old. He and Lady have been at each other's throats ever since he woke up. There was a brief cease-fire yesterday after lunch, and for about an hour I thought Vergil might actually have rediscovered his chill during his time as a little kid, but then last night it all hit the fan again. When he's not being a complete ice queen, it's like he goes out of his way to be as abrasive as possible. Meal times have been a special kind of hell. It got so bad at lunch that Lady decided to take up jogging just to get away from him."

"Oh, dear." Kyrie's brows pushed together. "I hope they don't keep that up around the children."

"I think Lady, at least, knows how to behave in front of the kids. Vergil doesn't strike me as the type who would tolerate being around children any longer than he absolutely had to, so if we're lucky they'll all just avoid each other."

"Vergil may want to avoid them," Kyrie sighed, "but the house is small, and you know how curious the children are. We'll have to make sure they don't pester him."

"Well, if he gets too annoyed, he'll probably just cut out and leave."

Kyrie frowned. "Do you really think he would? Even with his brother here, and the Nilepoch still out there?"

Before Nero could answer, the van returned, and Nico reversed it into its space in the garage with expert precision. The engine had scarcely died when the side door swung open and a half-dozen bodies, led by Rosso, tumbled out into the garage.

"Whoa, hold up there!" Nero threw out his arms and captured Rosso and Kyle as they tried to bolt past him. "Nobody goes into the house yet! I have some announcements first."

Kyle obediently stepped back to wait with the rest of the children, but Rosso squirmed against Nero's grip. "I want to see my brother!"

Nero caught himself just short of saying in a minute, and corrected it to, "You can't. He's not here."

That got everyone's attention, but Rosso set his jaw. "He is so! I can feel—"

"Tony." Kyrie's gentle voice silenced the garage more effectively than any shouting could have done. "Why don't we listen to what Nero has to tell us first?"

Rosso seemed about to protest again, but Trish, who had descended from the van in the children's wake, put a restraining hand on his shoulder. "What's the news?"

"Two things." Nero marveled at how docile Rosso became once Trish reined him in. He'd have to ask her what the trick was. "First, like I just said, Zaffiro isn't here. You know he didn't go with you because he had that doctor appointment, right?" Most of the children nodded, though Julio was frowning. "Well, the doctor decided he should see a specialist at one of those fancy children's hospitals on the mainland, so Zaffiro got to take a little vacation."

"Is Zaffiro sick?" Flavia's face scrunched with worry. "Will he be okay?"

"Oh, yeah, he'll be fine," Nero assured her. "You remember how I told you a couple months ago that the twins were growing really fast because of a, uh, gland disorder?" Rosso looked startled at that, but Nero hurried on with his story before he could interrupt. "Well, somebody found a medicine that might be able to cure them, so the doctors are going to see if it helps Zaffiro. If it does, then in a little while Tony can go join his brother and get treated, too."

This was too much for Rosso. "But I don't need to go anywhere to join him," he burst. "He's here!"

"Tony, calm down." Trish placed her other hand on the boy's opposite shoulder.

Rosso twisted to look up at her. "But I can feel him! Can't you? He's right inside—"

Trish's face revealed that she could. "Maybe we should listen to the rest of Nero's news, huh? We can't go in the house and see who's waiting until he tells us everything he wants to."

Rosso slumped back against her in sullen capitulation. Nero gave her a nod of thanks before addressing the rest of the children. "The other thing you all need to know is that we have a house guest."

"Another one?" Carlo glanced around the garage, as though expecting to see another motorcycle parked beside Lady's. "Besides Miss Trish and Miss Lady?"

"That's right. This guest is called… Mister Vergil." Nero had difficulty forcing the words out; the mundane honorific sounded ridiculous, appended to Vergil's name. He could imagine Vergil being addressed as something pretentious like Exalted Dark Lord, and he himself had no problem shouting Hey, asshole! to attract his father's attention, but anything between the two extremes just seemed wrong. "Now, the reason he's not waiting out here to meet you is because he's not used to being around kids, and he kind of likes his space. So I want you all to be really polite to him, okay? Don't go asking him a lot of questions or trying to sit on his lap or anything. It's not that he doesn't like you," he added, seeing Kyle's frown, "it's that he's… had kind of a rough time lately, and needs a lot of peace and quiet." That was half true, at least. "Do you all think you can do that for me? Can you respect his space so he can get plenty of rest?"

There was a chorus of answering affirmatives from the children. Trish looked amused at the very concept of Vergil needing rest, and Julio's jaw had dropped at the revelation of the guest's name and had never closed again. As Kyrie directed the children in unloading their bags from the van, Julio sidled over to Nero. "Vergil," the boy whispered. "That's your dad's name, right?"

"Yep."

Julio's eyes were wide. "So Zaffiro…?"

"Grew up." Nero scowled. "Sort of. Don't ask him about anything, though; he doesn't know any of you know."

"No, no, I won't. Peace and quiet. I heard you." Julio screwed up his cheek in an attempt at winking.

Nero suppressed a chuckle and shoved him toward the van. "Scram. Go get your stuff before Nico locks up." Nero glanced around, realizing he hadn't actually seen Nico since the van's arrival. He checked the driver's seat, then stepped outside the garage—directly into a cloud of cigarette smoke. "Damn it, Nico," he choked. "Could you not wait until the kids got inside the house?"

Nico rolled her eyes, but finished taking a long drag before answering. "No, I could not," she snapped, smoke pouring from her lips with each word. "I been campin' with those little angels o' yours for two full days. Ain't had a moment to myself. Only time I could grab a smoke all weekend was after they all went t' bed, an' then Tony wouldn't sleep an' started sittin' up with Trish, so I had to hike all th' way out in th' woods so none of 'em could see me. Ended up in a patch o' somethin' poisonous." She rubbed the ankle of one of her Western boots against the opposite knee, where Nero could see the flush of a rash spreading over the skin. He mentally ticked the "poison ivy" box on his prediction list. "So ex-queeze me for smokin' th' instant I finally get the chance."

"You know, you wouldn't have these problems if you'd just quit—"

"Shut it!" She jabbed the cigarette butt in Nero's direction. "I ain't in th' mood today."

"You never are," Nero muttered. He left her to pollute her lungs in peace and reentered the garage, where Kyrie and Trish had efficiently emptied the van. The children were lined up by the door, bags in arms, apparently awaiting his return.

"I told them you would go in first, to make the introductions," Kyrie told him. "Mister Vergil hasn't met the children yet, remember?"

"Oh. Right." Nero moved to the front of the line. "Once you've said hello, go on and start putting your stuff away in your rooms, all right? And I know you've had a pretty big weekend, so why don't you stay in there for some quiet time. You can sleep, read, or play, as long as you do it on your own bunks."

Rosso was nearest the door. He shouldered his backpack and met Nero's gaze defiantly. "As soon as I've seen my brother."

Nero took in the boy's stubborn posture and decided it was no use reiterating that Zaffiro was gone. For good or ill, the twins clearly still shared their strange radar connection. He opened the door and braced himself for whatever was to come.

Vergil was ensconced in his usual chair with a book, but as the family entered the house, he set it aside and stood. Rosso had shouldered past Nero and dashed into the living room, where he drew up short. He stared at Vergil for a few seconds, glanced around the room, then took a longer look at Vergil. Gradually the confusion on his face morphed into uncertainty, then anxiety.

Vergil, impassive, returned Rosso's stare.

The other children had filed into the room behind Rosso, standing politely and waiting to be identified to the new house guest. Vergil returned only nods as Nero went through the motions of introducing them. Naturally Vergil already knew all the children's names, but Kyrie was right: It would have looked odd if they had skipped the ritual completely.

Soon all the children but Rosso had disappeared down the hall. Rosso remained frozen where he had entered, eyes locked on Vergil. "Tony?" Kyrie prompted, touching the boy's shoulder. "Is everything all right?"

"What did you do?" The words were a ragged whisper, and Nero wasn't sure to whom the question was directed. "What did you do to my brother?"

Nero glanced to Vergil, hoping he would offer some explanation of his transformation, but Vergil hadn't so much as blinked. Asshole, Nero tossed at him silently. "Okay… I know this is a lot to take in, but… you remember when I told you about your memories?"

Rosso wasn't listening. His eyes were still fixed on Vergil. "I want my brother back."

"Well, that's the thing." Nero ran a hand through his hair. "He is back. Back the way he should be. And you…"

Rosso's head was swinging slowly from side to side. "I want my brother back."

Vergil's eyes narrowed fractionally. "Dante."

At that single word, Rosso blanched. He recoiled a step, fingers digging into the straps of his backpack, then turned and bolted from the room. They heard the door to the boys' bedroom slam behind him.

Trish was the first to recover. "That went well."

Kyrie continued looking after Rosso. "It must have been quite a shock. Should we go after him and try to explain?"

"Probably not until he calms down." Nero leaned against the back of the couch. "With luck, he'll remember that he hasn't slept in three days and crash for a while."

"But what if he lashes out at the other children? He seemed so upset…"

"Julio's still top dog, where the boys are concerned. He'll keep things civil. And if anything serious kicks off, all he has to do is open the door and call us."

"I suppose you're right." Kyrie didn't look entirely convinced.

"Anyway," Nero went on, "Kyrie, Vergil. Vergil, Kyrie. Introductions officially complete."

"Oh! Where are my manners?" Kyrie stepped forward, hands clasped tightly at her diaphragm. "It's so nice to finally meet you." She smiled warmly at Vergil, betraying little of the nervousness Nero could sense from her. "Properly, I mean."

"Indeed," Vergil replied. Since Rosso's abrupt departure, he hadn't so much as batted an eyelid. Nero experienced a sudden desire to punch him in the jaw, just to see if it produced a reaction.

"Well." Trish sauntered through the middle of the awkward social stand-off and draped herself across the couch. "I'd say it's good to have you back, Vergil, but I really couldn't care less."

"That sentiment is mutual." Vergil resumed his seat, though Nero was relieved to see that he didn't immediately bury his face in a book. "Though now that we're both here, it seems we have some business to discuss. The Nilepoch is our common enemy."

"I do have some news on that front—though we might as well wait for Lady to get here." Trish stretched, catlike. "No point in going over all of this twice."

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room for several seconds, until Kyrie cleared her throat. "I'll, ah, make us some tea, then." She brushed Nero's sleeve as she passed. "Nero, help me in the kitchen?"

Nero was glad for the excuse to escape the room, though there wasn't much for him to do as Kyrie put the kettle on to boil. "So now you've met the whole dysfunctional family," he murmured, his voice pitched too low to carry. "What do you think?"

"He's certainly…" Kyrie stared at the ceiling as she searched for a word. "Less… demonstrative than I'd expected."

Nero snorted. "That's one way of putting it. You'd get more human warmth out of that refrigerator."

"I am concerned about Tony, though. All weekend, he was so anxious to get back home to his brother, and now he thinks we've done something to Zaffiro. I don't know how all this will affect him."

"Maybe Trish can explain it to him. They seem to be getting along well now."

Kyrie nodded. "They do seem to have established some kind of rapport over the weekend. But you know, it's strange… When I saw how Tony was staying near Trish most of the time, I asked her about it, and all she said was, 'Potatoes aren't pizza, but they beat starvation.' I'm not sure what she was getting at, unless perhaps she meant that she was the closest substitute to Tony's mother."

"Or his brother, maybe." Nero leaned back against the kitchen table. "Trish isn't human, remember? We know Zaffiro could sense her, because he was terrified every time she came around. And in the garage a few minutes ago, Tony seemed to know that she would be able to sense Vergil as well as he could. Maybe it's just that he can feel something from her, and since he was missing his brother, he reached out toward the only other person who operates on that wavelength."

Kyrie considered this. "That does make a certain amount of sense. After all, people who live alone will strike up conversations with complete strangers just to have some social interaction. I imagine someone who has always depended on that kind of sixth sense might feel even more isolated when it vanishes." The kettle whistled, and she moved it off the hob before opening a cabinet over the stove. "Could you please get the cups and saucers from the top shelf? I can't reach without standing on a chair."

Nero stretched up to retrieve the elegant porcelain teacups that Kyrie's mother had received as a wedding gift decades before. "We're using the good china? Wow. I don't think I've ever drunk out of one of these things."

"We might as well. After all, they're of no use to anyone shut away in a cupboard all the time." Kyrie flashed him a smile, and he saw a shadow of the earlier nervousness return to her face. "Besides, it isn't every day that we have family visiting, is it?"

Family. Nero thought back to the previous afternoon, when he had sat with Vergil and Lady, and the revelation it had led to. The photograph of his mother was still propped up against the mirror in their bedroom. "That reminds me, I have something to show you later tonight. Or rather…" He grinned. "Someone I want you to meet."


Trish was just dunking the last of Kyrie's tea cookies in her cup when Lady returned. "You're back earlier than I expected!" Lady said, shaking the rain out of her short hair. "When I saw Nico lurking in the garage, I thought she was another prowler. I almost decked her."

"Maybe you should have," Nero retorted. "Nothing else is gonna interrupt her chain-smoking. I assume that's what she's doing out there?"

"Judging by the pile of butts that oil pan had accumulated, I'd say so. She wasn't happy about the rain, either." Lady shrugged out of her jacket and hung it over the closet door knob to dry before joining the group in the living room. "Did the storm chase you back here?"

Kyrie nodded. "We just got back a little while ago. Would you like some tea?"

"No, thanks. I just had a cup of coffee at that little outdoor cafe a couple of streets over. I started back when I saw the dark clouds rolling in, but I didn't quite beat the weather." She plucked at her damp blouse, which was rapidly turning transparent as the water seeped down from her shoulders.

Nero could pinpoint the exact moment Kyrie realized that Lady wasn't wearing anything under the shirt, as she sprang to her feet with an exclamation. "Oh! You must be cold in all those wet things. Why don't you go change into something dry, and I'll bring you a towel." She hustled Lady, protesting, toward the bedrooms.

Nero scratched at his nose and willed the heat to vanish from his face. After he'd rescued Lady—naked and covered in viscous slime—from the demon shell Artemis, it had been a while before he could face her without feeling a flush of embarrassment. Lady, for her part, had been completely at ease once she'd regained consciousness. He'd eventually realized that unlike Trish, who rather enjoyed putting on a show, Lady just didn't seem to care who saw what parts of her. Not that her cavalier attitude made it any less awkward for Nero, who wasn't particularly interested in looking at any woman other than Kyrie.

Nero heard low voices from down the hall, and a moment later Kyrie ushered Julio into the living room. "Tell Nero," she prompted him. "I'll go get the bandages." She hurried back toward the bedrooms, a towel draped over one arm.

"Bandages?" Nero took in the anxious expression on the boy's face and beckoned him over. "What's up?"

"It's Tony." Julio's eyes flicked to Vergil for an instant, then fixed on Nero again. "I think something's wrong. I can tell he's really tired, but he won't let himself fall asleep. He just keeps whispering something to himself over and over, and pinching himself to stay awake. I tried talking to him, to get him to calm down and rest, but all he would say is that it isn't safe to sleep any more. He's really pale, and his eyes are bloodshot, and he was pinching himself hard enough to break the skin."

Before Nero could come up with a response, Kyrie and Lady returned. Lady was buttoning a fresh shirt and had the towel draped around her shoulders, while Kyrie held a box of adhesive bandages and a bottle of antiseptic in her hands. "Which of the five of us is he most likely to listen to right now?" she asked, holding up the bandages.

"Given what happened earlier, I think we can count Vergil out," Trish said.

"Agreed." Vergil's gaze shifted to Trish. "Though you aren't exactly one for tea and sympathy, either."

"Not when sad little boys just want Mommy to tell them everything will be okay, no." The words were accompanied by a blistering eyeroll.

Vergil bristled, and Nero jumped in before their spat could escalate the way Vergil and Lady's had. "Okay, Vergil and Trish are both out."

Lady held up her hands. "I'll recuse myself, since I just got here and have no idea what happened earlier."

Nero met Kyrie's eyes. "You or me? You're better at patching up injuries."

"But I'm not sure that's the most important thing right now," Kyrie sighed. "He needs an explanation, and I think it will be better coming from you. You understand all of this better than I do, anyway."

"I'm not so sure about that," Nero muttered, but he collected the medical supplies from her. "Julio, are the other boys awake?"

"No, they all went right out as soon as we got home. They can sleep through anything."

"Good, that'll make this easier. Everybody stay out of the kitchen for a bit, okay? I have a feeling he's gonna need some space."

Nero followed Julio to the boys' bedroom. Rosso was braced in the far corner of his bunk, knees drawn up to his chest and arms crossed over them. Red semicircles dotted both wrists. His head lolled to one side, but at Nero's approach he jerked fully awake and dug his fingernails deep into the flesh of his opposite arm.

"Hey," Nero whispered, sliding his index finger beneath the boy's hand. "Ease up a little."

"I'm not going to sleep," Rosso hissed.

"Fine, but you keep doing that, and you're gonna bleed all over the sheets. You think Kyrie doesn't have enough laundry to do already?" Rosso blinked at the topical sidestep, and his grip relaxed. Nero jerked his head toward the door. "Come on out in the kitchen with me. Let's get you patched up."

Rosso frowned, analyzing the suggestion for a trap, but after a few seconds he scooted out of his defensive position and followed Nero into the kitchen. Nero pointed him to a chair and opened the bottle of antiseptic. "You wanted to stay awake, right?"

"Yes."

"Good, because this is gonna sting. Should wake you right up." He swabbed the cuts liberally, holding the boy's arm firmly in place as he tried to squirm away. "There, done. You wanna get decorated?" He shook the box of bandages.

Rosso scowled and pulled his arms back. "No. I don't need those."

"Yeah, knowing you, those little cuts will probably heal before dinner." Nero stood and opened the refrigerator. "You want something to drink?"

The boy hesitated. "It's not snack time."

"I didn't ask if you wanted a snack, did I?" Nero retrieved the bottle of milk and poured a glass, which he plopped down in front of Rosso. "Here. If you're not going to rest, you at least need to get some protein in your system. Milk has a lot of that." It also contained a bunch of natural compounds that Kyrie insisted helped people fall asleep. The kid was obviously exhausted, and if a dose of calcium would help knock him out, Nero wasn't above trying it.

Rosso eyed the glass with suspicion. "It's just milk, right?"

Nero rolled his eyes and splashed a finger of milk in another glass, which he drained in one gulp. "See? Just milk. What, you think I'm going to slip you sleeping pills or something?"

Placated, Rosso sipped from his glass. "I'm not going to sleep."

Nero dropped into the chair opposite him. "Convince me."

Rosso blinked. "What?"

"Tell me why you don't want to sleep." Nero crossed his arms and leaned back. "You convince me there's a good reason, and I'll let you stay up as late as you want. But you have to convince me."

The boy turned his glass in the ring of condensation it was leaving on the table. "It isn't safe anymore," he murmured.

"Why isn't it safe?"

His eyes flicked in the direction of the living room. "He knows."

"Who knows what?" The boy didn't answer, and Nero prompted him. "You mean Vergil?"

Rosso flinched at the name.

Nero sighed. "Look, Ro—Tony, I know it's a lot to take in. I told you about the demon that took away your memories, remember? Well, that demon also changed you both. Made you younger. And we managed to undo that. So even though he isn't the same age anymore, he's still your brother."

"He isn't!"

"He is. I know you can feel him, just like you always could."

Rosso's head twisted from side to side. "But no one here is supposed to know. If he were really my brother, he would never…" He broke off abruptly.

Nero blinked. "Never what?"

Rosso looked away and gulped his milk.

"Tony, listen." Nero leaned forward. "I want to help you, I really do. But I can't do that if you won't trust me. I know you're upset, I know you're so scared of something you'd rather hurt yourself than sleep, but I don't know why. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

Rosso stared into his empty glass for nearly a minute. His eyes were glassy and red-rimmed, and he swayed slightly in his seat. At last he raised bloodshot eyes to Nero. "You know about… the other place."

Nero nodded. "The place you dream about. Your real memories."

Rosso gnawed at his lower lip. "If those are our real memories… did you know us there? In the other place?"

"Yeah, sort of. I met you a little later than what you're remembering, though. That's why you haven't remembered me yet."

Rosso's gaze was piercing, and for an instant Nero was reminded of who this child really was—though he'd only seen such an intense look replace Dante's charismatic smile a handful of times. "Then you know our names there."

"Your names… in the other place?" It took Nero a second to catch on. "You mean your real names. Dante and Vergil."

Rosso flinched, but nodded. "It was always our secret. My brother's and mine. No one else was supposed to know them. We had different names here. And then Mother…" His entire body tensed, shoulders rising to meet his ears. "Mother said I had to change my name, and start over as someone else. No one could know my real name."

"So you became Tony Redgrave."

Rosso's eyes flashed up to meet Nero's, wary, and he hovered off the chair for a second as though he might bolt for the door. Nero showed his palms. "Relax. I knew you before you lost your memories, remember? It's not a big deal that I know your full alias. Besides, by the time I met you, you'd stopped using it."

Rosso sank back down on the chair. "What name did I use, then?"

"You'd gone back to your real name. Dante."

Rosso glanced toward the door, clearly uncomfortable with Nero speaking his "secret" name aloud. "But I'm not supposed to. Nobody can know who I am."

"Well, some day, that's gonna change. And your brother—Vergil—he uses his real name, too. So if you're worried because he called you by that name, it's only because that's what he always calls you." Nero propped his chin on one hand, trying to suggest subliminally that Rosso relax a bit, too. "So why do you think it's dangerous to fall asleep?"

Rosso rubbed at one eye. "Because when I sleep, I go to the other place," he murmured. "That's where they're looking for me. And he said my name, so it's not a secret anymore. If I fall asleep now, they'll find me."

The logic was so contorted that Nero could barely follow it, but it was clearly a serious concern to the boy. "Tony, everything you see in the other place is just a memory. It all already happened, years ago. Nothing that happens here, while you're awake, can affect what happened back then."

Rosso frowned, clearly unconvinced. "I still don't want to sleep."

Nero sighed. "Okay, have it your way. But there are two rules: First, you have to stay on your bunk, sleep or no sleep. Second…" He put a hand over the boy's wrist, still dotted with a few red nail marks. "You will not hurt yourself. If you really want to stay awake, you have to use your willpower to do it, not physical pain. I catch you doing something like this again, I really will pull out the sleeping pills. Got it?"

The boy nodded, his head wobbling a little from fatigue.

"All right. Back to your room." Nero followed him to make sure he actually got in bed, and discovered that in the interim, the younger boys had awakened. Carlo and Kyle were both perched on Kyle's bunk, apparently building a cross-country course for a toy truck out of the bed linens. At the far end of the room, Scipio was hanging over the side of his lower bunk to stack blocks on the floor.

Julio, who was attempting to read amid the noise and chaos surrounding him, met Nero's eyes as he entered the room. Everything okay? he mouthed.

Nero wandered over to Julio's bunk and pretended to examine the book he was reading. "All good for now," he murmured. "You see him pinching himself or anything again, come and get me."

Julio nodded. "Roger that."

Nero circled Rosso's bunk and bent to watch him settle onto his bed. "Remember our deal. Willpower only, capisce?"

Rosso nodded. "Yup."

"Okay." Nero started to step back, but a yelp and a jab to the back of his thigh halted him in his tracks. "What the—"

"Careful!" Scipio admonished. Nero twisted and saw that his foot had nearly collided with the elaborate structure Scipio was building. "You almost hit my Cattedrale."

"Oh, sorry." Nero turned and watched as Scipio, bracing two teetering piles of blocks, nudged one of the triangular pieces into place between their uppermost tiers to serve as a keystone. He let go, and the blocks settled into a freestanding arch. "Wow." Nero crouched for a closer look. "That's seriously impressive, Scipio. Where did you learn to do that?"

The boy dug his chin into the edge of his mattress. "Papà taught me," he mumbled. "È una chiave di volta."

Nero tried to recall what Gianna had said about her parents. Their father had been an architect or a building contractor or something in construction, hadn't he? "You inherited some real talent, there."

Scipio hesitated. "What is in… hair…?"

"Inherited? It means something you get from your parents. Like… your hair color, for instance. I'll bet your mother or father had red hair." Considering all three siblings were redheads, it was almost guaranteed. "You can inherit skills, too. Like being good at building things."

Scipio considered this. "If I am good at the same things as Papà, does that mean I will do the same work as him? Do all kids do the same as their fathers?"

Nero's thoughts flashed unwillingly to Vergil, and he got to his feet. "Not all, no. Even if you have the same skills, you can choose to do different things with them."

As he stood he caught sight of Rosso, who was following their conversation with a thoughtful expression. Dante had always been so much warmer and more real than the impersonal statues of Sparda Nero had grown up with that he'd found it difficult to connect them in his mind, but now the parallels struck home with sudden clarity. Like Sparda before him, Dante had dedicated his life to protecting humanity from demons. "But you know what?" Nero murmured. "Sometimes, kids do exactly the same."